


crush my arms around

by perculious



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious/pseuds/perculious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not the scenario of Rin’s fantasies because Rin has never dared to fantasize about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crush my arms around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stereosymbiosis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereosymbiosis/gifts).



> This was a commission for tumblr user captainmander. Y'all can hit me up on tumblr at quadlutz.

Haru presses Rin into the door of his room, his arms bent between them and his hands on Rin’s shoulders. Haru is a little shorter than Rin, and their hips don’t align perfectly; Rin’s hipbone presses into Haruka’s lower stomach. Rin closes his eyes and ignores the rushing in his ears as Haru opens his mouth against Rin’s, breathing against his lips. Rin feels like his heart might malfunction, it’s pounding so fast in his chest, and his skin is buzzing all over with adrenaline and heat. They’ve kissed a few times, falling together at the end of private swim practices; words have been said, words that Rin could barely handle saying or hearing through the waves of embarrassment, but it did happen. Haru’s mouth is usually cool, and his lips wet and tasting of chlorine.

And now Rin’s here, in Haru’s house where he lives alone—in his _room_ —and Haruka is warm and dry, one hand moving up to rest his fingers against Rin’s clavicle. It’s not the scenario of Rin’s fantasies because Rin has never dared to fantasize about it. In his deepest dreams, late at night when the barrier of shame was worn thin, he might tell Haru how he felt and Haru would shrug, think it was weird, and agree to give him a chance. This—Haru looking up at him with his placid blue eyes and telling Rin that of course he liked him, like it was Rin’s fault he didn’t know—he would have died before even hoping for it.

Haru shifts his hips a little and lets his teeth catch Rin’s lower lip. Rin hisses, his hands hovering over Haru’s hips and his fingers flexing slightly, unsure if he’s allowed to touch. Haru is so sure—he hasn’t hesitated once—and Rin doesn’t want to tell him that he’s never done this before. That his only sexual experience has been an awful makeout with the sister of one of his Australian teammates and he spent the whole time wondering if he was supposed to be turned on by now. Is he supposed to do the same back to Haru, or would that be a mistake with his teeth? Would it be a turn-on, maybe?

Haru pulls back a little to kiss Rin’s neck, and Rin leans his head back against the door, his eyes still shut tight. Just the feeling is already overwhelming, with Haru pressing little kisses along his jawline and nipping at his throat. Rin feels Haru’s breath on his ear a second before he feels Haru’s tongue on his earlobe. He presses himself against the door, shivering. Rin would never even have thought of licking Haru’s ear. He is so out of his depth here, and Haru’s going to figure it out at some point.

“Rin,” Haru says, right against his ear. Rin’s eyes snap open wide, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Rin snaps, and fuck, it comes out angrier than he wanted, why is he acting angry when Haru’s pinning him to a wall and covering his face in kisses? This is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he feels as tense as a scared cat, and annoyed at Haru for noticing.

Haru is staring at him with his even gaze, his eyes searching Rin’s face.

“Anyway,” Rin says, his voice thin, “can we—can we move to the bed?” He hopes very hard that that was Haru’s intention in dragging him up here.

“Sure,” Haru says.

It’s a mistake, maybe, because at least Rin was a little taller than Haru when they were standing. Now Haru’s on top of him, kissing him slowly and deeply, and Rin has no defenses. His body is jelly, melting into the mattress below him. Haru’s hands are playing with his hair and his body against Rin’s feels hot and compact—surprisingly warm, Rin thinks feverishly, given Haru’s cool demeanor. Rin settles his hands on Haru’s waist, his pulse jumping, kissing him back as fervently as he can. He can smell a fishy tang on Haru’s skin, and the clean scent of his shampoo. Haru likes him—Haru wants to kiss him—and it’s that thought that’s turning Rin on just as much as Haru’s tongue in his mouth.

He moves his hips a little, just for comfort, but Haru rocks back against him. Rin groans—the feeling of his jeans zipper rubbing against his sensitive dick is a little painful, but—he still can’t quite believe that Haru isn’t just doing all of this to be nice, and the confirmation that Haru’s turned on as well makes him flush. 

Haru pulls back a little, and then kisses Rin once again, softly. Then he looks down at Rin, his blue eyes shining and his mouth slightly parted. After a second, Rin feels Haru’s long fingers at his zipper and Haru says, “Can I?”

Rin swallows. This is where he should tell Haru that he’s never done this before, because he’s going to mess this up somehow—come too fast, or make a wrong assumption, or something, and the moment is going to pop and everything’s going to be ruined. He can feel it coming—maybe it’s a premonition, based on years of ruining everything good in his life, or maybe the tension squeezing his chest is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Haru is always so together, and Rin doesn’t want to admit to one more thing that Haru has over him. One more way in which Haru’s soared while Rin’s struggled and failed.

“Yeah,” he says, because, yeah. Haru deftly undoes Rin’s jeans and slips his hand inside, and Rin gasps and turns to bury his face in Haru’s neck, because he’s suddenly afraid he’s going to cry.

He doesn’t. He pulls it together, breathing hard as Haru works him over, seemingly without even really trying—his touch is tentative, but it just increases the sensation, like Haru is teasing him. “Is that it?” Rin growls into Haru’s neck, pushing his hips forward into Haru’s hand.

“What?” Haru says.

“Harder, come on,” Rin says, and covers Haru’s hand with his own to show him. He squeezes his eyes shut.

Haru grabs Rin’s wrist with his other hand and pulls it away. “I can do it.”

“Fine, do it, then.”

Haru’s hand doesn’t move. Rin huffs out a frustrated breath, trying to move his hips against Haru’s hand. “Come on.”

“Rin,” Haru says, “I want to go down on you.”

“Haru!” Rin freezes, his skin prickling with embarrassment. You don’t just say that, Haru can’t just—

“Can I do it?” he says. Rin pulls back to stare at him, his face overheating.

“I—” His brain is shorting out. He should have fallen for someone easier to handle than this, Nitori or someone who would proceed as Rin expected, and not jump five steps ahead to things he didn’t expect to get until he was on top of the Olympic podium. He feels suddenly, horribly aware of his own body, of every inch of skin under his clothes. Haru’s seen most of it before, but—Haru’s already seen so much of him, the worst, ugliest parts of him that Rin would have preferred to hide until their fiftieth anniversary, or preferably death, and the faster this goes the more he’s losing control. But Haru’s also never let him fall, and if they do this, then Rin will get to see something of Haru he’s never seen before—and he won’t be just another team member, and he’ll be so much more to Haru than the other butterfly guy. He wants it so badly it scares him a little. Rin’s never been good at wanting things in moderation.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

Rin’s in a daze as Haru shimmies down and takes down his jeans and boxers. Haru pushes a hand up Rin’s shirt to feel his stomach, and presses a wet open-mouthed kiss to his abs, just below his bellybutton. Rin shivers hard, feeling more exposed than ever before. Haru’s soft hair falls forward onto his stomach, and Rin scowls.

“That tickles,” he says, his voice strained.

“Too bad,” Haru says. He licks the tip of Rin’s cock, almost casually.

“Oh, fuck.” Rin shuts his eyes again. What Haru’s doing with his mouth is the equivalent of his teasing fingertip touches before. Haru smears his lips against Rin’s dick, and gives him little licks all over. He fits his mouth over the head, making Rin suck in a breath, and then pulls back, rubbing his thumb up the shaft. Rin doesn’t want to disturb him by touching his head, so he grabs onto the pillow with both hands, turning his face to the side so he can muffle the sounds he’s making. He endures what feels like an eternity of torturously soft laps before he gasps out, “Are you just _kissing_ it?” He risks glancing down at Haru, who looks up at him, irritated. “You’re supposed to suck it,” Rin adds.

“You complain too much,” Haru says.

“You go too slo— _owly_ ,” Rin chokes out—Haru didn’t wait for him to finish before sucking him into his mouth. After that, Rin can barely speak, as Haru sucks him in over and over, causing waves of sensation to roll through Rin’s body. “Haru,” he says, and he likes saying it, so he says it again: “Haru, _Haru_.”

Haru makes a soft noise and takes Rin in a little deeper. Rin feels his body start to overload, the muscles in his stomach pulling tight and his breath tripping all over itself. He opens his mouth to tell Haru he’s going to come, but then he stops, because there’s a pressure in his throat and a stinging at his eyes that warns of something else entirely. Rin presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, completely overwhelmed; he can’t hold himself together when Haru’s taking him apart. He can’t pull back and stuff this down when Haru’s mouth is hot on his dick and his entire body is vibrating with pleasure. He tries to smother a sound in his throat, but it comes out as almost a squeak, which is even worse. He presses harder against his eyes, willing himself not to cry, but it’s no good. Tears leak out against his palms and his chest hitches in a soundless sob, and maybe it’s that that makes him shout “ _Haru_ ” and let go, the orgasm overtaking him.

When he’s finished, he feels shaky and weak, his pulse slowing from its jackhammer pace. He takes his hands away, trying to wipe his eyes of the evidence, but it’s no good. He can feel wetness on his eyelashes as he blinks, trying to regain his composure.

Haru’s face appears next to him, and it’s too late to hide. Haru’s seeing this too, yet another crack in armor so full of holes Rin’s starting to question if it ever existed in the first place.

“Rin?” he says, and Rin doesn’t want him to ask if he’s okay again because he really has no idea how to explain this. 

He opens his mouth and blurts, “I’ve never done that before.”

Haru’s expression doesn’t change. “Me neither,” he says.

Rin turns to him, his mouth falling open. “Are you kidding me?” he demands. “That was your first time?”

“Yeah,” Haru says.

“But I thought—but—” But he was so confident, as smooth and unflappable as he was when he was ten and telling Rin he didn’t care about times.

“No,” Haru says. 

“Not with Makoto, or—or—Nagisa, or—”

“No,” Haru says again. “I only want to do that with Rin.”

Rin closes his eyes briefly; the worst part is that Haru isn’t even trying to say anything romantic, and has no idea what he’s even doing.

“Oh,” he says, and then: “Well, let me try then, I’ll do it much better.”

“Why?” Haru says, frowning at him.

“Because you obviously had no idea what you were doing,” Rin says. “You kissed my dick.”

“You weren’t complaining,” Haru says.

“And you won’t either,” Rin says. He prods Haru’s hip. “Roll over, I want to do it.”

“It’s harder than it looks,” Haru says, not moving.

“You’ve done it one time,” Rin says, “it’s not like you’re some expert. Let me try.”

“Fine,” Haru says, and rolls over onto his back. Rin rolls on top of him and leans down to kiss his forehead, surreptitiously wiping his eyes on Haru’s hair. Haru’s hair is more mussed than Rin’s ever seen it before, and his cheeks are flushed just slightly pink. Rin kisses his mouth once, and then again, and then again just because he can. Haru lets him, one hand snaking up to Rin’s hair again like he’s magnetically attracted. Euphoria and relief are bubbling in Rin’s chest like a fountain, and he feels like laughing. _I love you_ , he thinks, and it’s nothing new, because he’s known he loved Haru for years and years, but he holds it back anyway, and slides his hands down Haru’s chest.

It’s just for him, the look on Haru’s face. It’s something that no one else in Iwatobi gets, and Rin feels impossibly lucky.


End file.
